


Midnight Halloween on Crack

by DeathByMidnightCinderella (DeathByOtome)



Category: Midnight Cinderella (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByOtome/pseuds/DeathByMidnightCinderella
Summary: It's All Hallow's Eve, and things are getting strange in Wysteria and Stein. An angel, a devil, a vampire, a werewolf, a magician, the Mad Hatter, a pirate, a mummy, and a new king?Of course, naturally, the Princess of Wysteria is stuck in the middle of all of this. Not only are the boys acting like nutters; they're also being hopelessly flirty or romantic (Well, Alyn is debatable... as usual.). What will the princess do, in the presence of her usually calm suitors?At the same time... something is coming.A new presence. A new personality. A new heart, already captured by her.A new suitor is here, and it's Rayvis Harneit, dropping in with a bang.





	Midnight Halloween on Crack

**Author's Note:**

> This is crack. Please, don't even try to take this seriously. Just don't; it's complete and utter crack I wrote with the purpose of it being crack.

_The princess stirs in her sleep._

_“Princess…”_

_Robert?_

_“Princess.”_

_Albert…_

_Their voices whisper through her dreams, murmuring to her subconscious, voices caressing her name in unison._

_“___.”_

_Her dream is filled with white light, beaming and shining before her. Two hands reach through, inviting her in, pulling her to them._

_“Come here.”_

_In the dream, she falls into their arms. They cradle her, hold her, protect her. She can’t see them, but she knows they’re there._

_“We’ll be coming for you soon.” Albert’s low voice rumbles into her ear. She shivers, trembling in his gentle grip._

_“Wait for us.” Robert purrs into her other ear, breath tickling the shell. Her body shudders, arching into his touch._

_“I will…”_

_They both laugh softly, almost ghost-like._

_“Good.”_

She sits up in bed, immediately becoming confused. It’s night-time, easily around midnight, and the moon is high and full in the sky. Something in the air feels different, and she shivers involuntarily. She places a hand on her head, the echoes of Albert and Robert’s voices still resonating in her mind. “What on earth…”

Before she can even guess what it was all about, there’s a familiar knock on the door. “Princess, can I come in?”

Nico. Relieved to have someone to reassure her that normality still exists, she calls out to him, “Yeah.”

When he opens the door and slips in, she goes stone-still, thoughts descending into chaos.

He closes the door behind him, tilting his head. He’s covered in what look like bandages, wrapped around his otherwise bare body, some loose and some tight. Thankfully - she thinks - his lower region is covered by a larger cloth, but his legs are still exposed and he has nothing on his feet.

“N-Nico?” She stutters out, now to some degree afraid and extremely worried.

He grins, wandering over to the bed like it’s the most normal thing to walk around in bandages. He plops down onto the bed right next to her, planting his hands on either side of his body and leaning in close. She yelps in surprise, falling back onto the mattress in response to him practically going to kiss her, and a cheeky smirk crosses his lips. He lies down over her, amber eyes smouldering with a seductive playfulness. He lowers his face to hover above hers, mouth mere inches away.

“You look so scared, Princess. What’s wrong?” He lets out a tinkling laugh, moving to whisper in her ear, “Are my wraps not done up properly? I did just wake up after all, so they might have gotten all messed up while I was in my sarcophagus.”

_What?_

The bandages. A sarcophagus.

_He’s a mummy?_

Feeling her tense under him with bafflement and shock, he hums lowly, almost purring like a cat. He nuzzles his face into her neck gently, and her cheeks burn in response. “I love your dress, Princess. The flowers are so pretty, just like you.” He breathes out a content sigh, whispering, “Actually, the flowers are no match for you.”

Still frozen, she glances down at what she’s wearing. It’s a black dress with the top part supported by her upper arms, leaving her shoulders and neck completely open. It’s decorated with black, lilac and rose-hued flowers, and there’s a sash around the waist of a warmer purple. Two bows sit along the bottom on ether side, where the dress stops at her thighs, and the skirts are decorated with little white beads that look like stars.

On her feet are black boots, with small heels and the same purple ribbons on each ankle. She feels a hat on her head, and realises that it’s of the same colour scheme, but has attached to it an eyepatch attached to it that’s sitting above her eye, styled to be a larger lilac flower.

_I thought I was sleeping!_

Mind going onto overdrive, she decides that she should probably get out of here, considering that Nico at least has gone mad. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not exactly opposed to this, but… not under these circumstances.

She lightly shoves him back, enough to allow her to jump to the side and roll off the bed, then quickly run to the door. Adrenaline rushes through her as she opens the door, hearing his voice whisper right against her neck, “You can run, Princess, but there’s nowhere to hide and no way to escape.”

She sprints for it out of her room and down the corridors, finding them to be completely empty for once. Heart pounding away from adrenaline and a healthy dose of fear, she makes her way down to the gardens, thinking that she’ll be safer in a more open area.

She comes to a halt, though, when she almost runs straight into someone’s back.

_No way…_

There, in the centre of the gardens, stands Byron. He’s in what looks like a toga, perfectly white and unmarked, exposing his legs and one shoulder. Shoes that the princess recognises as those worn by gladiators in other countries adorn his feet, and what looks like a halo glows above his head, almost blindingly bright.

“King… Byron?”

He turns around slowly, taking in her slightly breathless form. His eye narrows slightly. “Good evening, Princess. Is something wrong?”

She can barely think of an answer, feeling her pre-existing blush from Nico and the flush from running getting worse. His bare shoulder is marginally distracting. “U-Um… No.”

He approaches her slowly, a strange, powerful aura exuding from him.

_Byron, an angel?_

Her breath catches in her throat as he stands before her, shining so brightly in the midst of the dead of night. A tiny smile tugs at his lips. “You look confused. Your expressions are entertaining to watch.”

He reaches her now and extends his hand, fingers brushing against her cheek. Body and mind going haywire, she can barely speak, feeling them thread through her hair and bury themselves in it. “King Byron, what’s going on? Why are you dressed like that?”

His smile widens.

His free hand slides around her waist, tugging her against him. Embarrassed, confused, enjoying it to some extent, but also very worried, she turns her head to the side and tries to detach herself from him. He keeps a firm grip, though, before leaning down to place his lips against the shell of her ear. He smirks ever so slightly, tipping her head back just a little. “Why, because I’m an angel, of course.”

She trembles at the deep sound of his voice, rumbling through his chest against her. Her response comes out as more of a squeak than a proper reply. “But that’s not possible- I mean, you’re human-”

“Like hell he’s human.”

Scared half to death by the sudden, snapped voice behind her, she yanks herself out of Byron’s arms, stumbling back and whirling around. 

And, of course, there stands Alyn. Dressed in his casual light shirt, he looks surprisingly normal in comparison to the two Steiners.

… Well, except for the obsidian wings sprouting from his back, the fiery colour of his hair and the raven horns sticking out from his skull.

_This is getting ridiculous. Is everyone here some sort of mythical creature now?_

Alyn rolls his eyes, storming over to the princess. “Tch. Angels make my eyes hurt.” His hand shoots out, catching hers in a firm but not painful grasp. “Let’s go. Don’t go around trusting ‘heavenly’ beings like him.”

_Why on earth is he acting like this?_

“Alyn, that’s King Byron! What are you- Alyn!” Before she can finish, he yanks her toward him, then scoops her off her feet and into his arms. She yelps in shock, making him wince.

“Watch the volume, will ya? Hang on tight or I’ll drop you.” Seeing her bewildered look, he scowls, snapping, “If you don’t, I’ll poke you with one of these horns.”

He’s not bluffing. She clings onto his neck for her life.

He suddenly jumps up, and they’re both launched into the sky as his wings expand and grow to be massive. Stomach lurching, she grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut, burying her face in his neck instinctively. He smirks, although she can’t see it, and curls his arms around her legs tighter.

“Hey. Open your eyes - you’re safe. I’m not gonna drop you.” His voice is softer now, almost tender and completely kind. Albeit afraid, she peeks around his neck with one eye open, daring to look under her.

The whole country spans out beneath her, little lights from towns twinkling amongst the dark. The mountains and nearby ocean glisten in the moonlight, and the sky, dusted with stars, seems to be closing in on the world.

“It’s so beautiful.” She breathes out, completely forgetting her fear for a moment. Alyn snorts.

“Yeah. Hell’s a lot nicer, but this isn’t too bad.” She hopes he’s joking. From the look on his face, he’s not. He lets out a breath. “Now, you need to get to the castle-”

Just as he starts to speak, saying something that sounds extremely important, there’s a deafening boom below them. They both look down immediately, only to see a large metal ball flying into the sky straight at them.

“Alyn!” She cries out, knowing that if it hits them, they’re going down and they’re not going to survive. He suddenly clutches her against him, so hard it’s almost painful, before he starts to spin in the air, swerving out of the way of whatever it was. His wings curl around them while he does, enveloping them both in darkness for a brief moment. “Alyn, what was that?”

He scowls again, something very royally pissed lurking in his eyes. “Pirates.” He almost spits. “Hold onto me.”

Before she can ask why, he dives down through the air, drawing a terrified gasp from her. Insides churning, she practically crushes his throat because she’s holding onto it so tightly. She closes her eyes again, feeling the rush of wind around her, oddly warm considering the time.

And then, it all stops, and he touches down lightly on the ground.

_Is that… sea salt?_

She slowly opens her eyes, taking in her surroundings. They’re at the docks, where all of the ships and merchant fleets are ready to depart from the port. The ocean is calm and settled, rippling gently in the night-time breeze.

“Idiot. Do me a favour and watch where you’re firing your toys everywhere.” Alyn growls out, looking up at a large ship before them.

Glancing up to where he’s looking, she spots the person - no doubt a pirate - leaning against the railing.

_Leo too?_

He smiles widely, tipping his head back so that his face is visible in the moonlight, around the captain’s hat sat atop his snowy hair. She sees that he’s also got an eyepatch on, as well as his casual clothes, and that Sebastian is perched on his shoulder.

Spotting the princess in Alyn’s arms, he grins, scarlet eyes twinkling.

Without warning, he launches himself over the railing, using the side of the boat to slide down somewhat gently, then land on the pier before straightening up. Alyn scoffs, fingers curling around her knees and side harder, almost warning Leo not to come any closer. “Get back on your boat. I’m taking her to the castle. I just wanted to tell you to stop being stupid.”

Leo’s exposed eye narrows, but the amusement in it only swells. He saunters over, a strange, alluring danger pouring from him. “Aye, aye, little brother. No need to be so rude. However,” He steps up close to them both, so much so that his chest touches her hip and his face is inches away from both hers and Alyn’s. He lowers his voice, something almost threatening seeping in. “No devils allowed in the castle grounds.”

And then he slips his hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a tomato. He winks. “I’ll take it from here.”

The princess lets out a strangled cry, watching Leo smack the fruit - vegetable? - into his twin’s face, before slipping her out of his arms and setting her on her feet. He grabs her wrist and sprints back to the boat, howling with laughter. “See you later, Alyn!”

“You asshole!” Alyn roars behind them both. Leo heads straight for a rope hanging from a pulley attached to the mast, grabbing onto it and wrapping it around his wrist tightly. He tugs the princess into his side, hooking his arm around her waist so she’s secure against him.

“Bring us up, boys!” He calls.

There’s a collection of shouts from the boat, and once again the princess lets out a scream as she’s flung into the air, the rope being hoisted up sharply. Leo only grins, watching her grip onto his shoulders, before he swings forward when they get to the railings. He plants a foot on it and slides over the wood, bringing her with him. She sways on her feet, now on the deck of the ship, completely dizzy and ready to lose her mind.

“Set sail for the castle! Let’s get there quickly; our princess has someone waiting for her!” He orders, and the sailors she can now see dotted around all shout to him in response. He keeps his arm around her, letting his free one slide around her back while she gets her balance. “Hey, Princess. How are you holding up?”

Still waiting for the world to stop spinning, she frowns, not noticing that she’s also pouting just a little from annoyance.

“I’m completely confused. Everyone’s dressed up weirdly and is acting really strange, and I don’t understand who I’m going to see in the castle.” Her frown deepens. Realising that she’s still very much in his embrace and that several of the sailors are staring amusedly, her cheeks flush with embarrassment, and she lightly shoves against his chest. “Can you let go of me? I can stand up on my own.”

His lips curl up into a teasing grin. “Oh? Okay, then.”

He lets her go, stepping back and holding his hands up in surrender. She goes to thank him, but stops short when Sebastian squawks over her. “To the castle! Set sail!”

The ship lurches into motion all of a sudden, the sails released completely and catching the wind immediately. Unaccustomed to the sharp swaying, and already unsteady because of her shoes, she stumbles back and almost falls, but manages to catch herself before she ends up on the floor.

Leo chuckles lowly, holding a hand out to her. “You haven’t quite got the sea legs yet, Princess. Are you sure about standing up on your own? We’re only speeding up from here on.”

She huffs, not wanting to let him have his way but also not wanting to fall over.

_Damn you, Leo._

She takes his hand, and he pulls her against him again, wrapping her up in a warm hug. “You’re chilly. Want to stay in the Captain’s Quarters until we get there?”

She gives him a look, blushing profusely. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

He laughs heartily, nodding. “Okay, okay.” He pulls back slightly, asking, “How about we go stand at the forecastle deck?” Seeing her blank expression at the jargon, another laugh bursts out of him. He inclines his head toward the front of the boat. “Up there, so you can see where we’re going.”

Thankful that she’ll be able to hold onto the railings, she nods. He guides her over, keeping a hand on her back so she won’t fall, and she stares out at the water as the ship speeds through it. She can see an island in the distance, lit up brilliantly, and can make out a castle as the source of the light. Leo stands behind her, placing his hands on the railings on either side of her. When she gives him a warning look, he tilts his head innocently.

“What? I’m just blocking out the wind for you. Granted, it’s probably not going to help much, since the wind comes from the front.” He smirks. “Want me to wrap you up in my coat to keep you warm?”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. She’s glad he can’t see her furious blush. “Knock it off, Leo.”

He grins again, but he says nothing more. Instead, he slips his jacket off, draping it over her and tugging it around to shield her front from the wind. She glances at him in surprise, but he only winks, leaning against the railing to her left. “You’d make a cute pirate. I’m keeping the eyepatch and hat for now, though.”

She can’t help but smile at that. “Thank you.”

In no time, at which point she’s feeling warmer, the boat docks in the island’s port. There’s a forest surrounding the castle, which is raised and towers over the rest of the island, and it looks to be completely pitch black. She gives Leo his jacket back, and he “escorts” her off the boat, meaning that he grabs her and swings down using the rope again. She glares at him when they touch the ground.

He walks through the pier with her, where he suddenly comes to a halt, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Amongst a set of crates and merchant bags, she can see a tall, dark shadow leaning against them. She squints, peering into the dark to see who it is.

The shadow moves, seeming to almost pour out of the black, before they’re bathed in moonlight.

For a second, she’s completely stunned.

Sid, in  _normal_  clothes, looking  _normal_ , smirking like  _normal_.

“Sid?” He smirks cockily, looking her up and down.

“Nice dress. Congrats for not ruining it getting over here.” A blush rises in her cheeks again, skin warming under his gaze. Thankfully, he eyes Leo after a second, inclining his head. “You’re a little late. What took you so long? You know the big guy won’t be happy.”

Leo shrugs, waving a hand dismissively. “He won’t even come down here to tell me off. It’s all good.” He sends her a wink, then gives her a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Good luck, princess. Watch out for the wolf-man!”

“Huh?” She watches him saunter away with bewilderment, wondering what he meant. She hears Sid scoff and turns back, seeing him roll his eyes.

“Watch out for the wolf-man, says the shady pirate.” He jerks his head toward himself, smirk coming back swiftly. “Come on. Those other guys have made you late, and you don’t wanna be late for the guys in the castle.”

She still doesn’t understand what’s going on. “What’s going on? No-one’s explained anything to me.” He lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. Still, he quickly slips his hand into hers, lightly tugging her toward the forest.

“I’ll explain while we walk. Try not to fall until we get in, will ya?” Ignoring her glare and mutter of him being rude, he continues, watching his surroundings carefully. “I’ll let you have this info for free today just because you already look completely lost. You’re meeting with the kings today, in what should be twenty minutes.”

She gives him a wide-eyed look, now even more baffled. “What are you talking about? Which kings?” She blinks, trying to gather her thoughts. “King Byron was back in Wysteria Palace-”

He lets out a loud, sudden howl of laughter, looking genuinely amused. “Princess, he ain’t a king. He’s an angel, 'kay?” They’re in the forest now, and he makes sure to help her over fallen logs as she goes, being careful of her shoes and dress on the tree roots and branches. “The kings you’re meeting are King Robert Branche and King Albert Burckhardt.”

She actually stumbles, brain coming to a halt.

_Robert and Albert are kings? What the hell is going on?_

He stops, grabbing her other arm to steady her. “Wow. You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” He shakes his head, but he’s still smirking. “Oh well. You’ll get it soon enough. Probably.”

He lets go of her now, taking a step back. “Now, I know you’re all shy and modest, so you might want to look away.”

Her heart stops. “What?”

He shrugs his coat off, tossing it up onto a tree branch. “Seriously. You ain’t getting there on time, and you ain’t getting there alive, on human legs.”

He opens his shirt shamelessly, taking it off and doing the same with it. Flustered beyond relief, she lets out a strangled noise of embarrassment, whipping around to be facing away from him and covering her face with her hands. She hears him chuckle behind her darkly, not knowing why he’s doing this at all, whole body burning.

_Wait._

Her thoughts do a one-eighty on themselves, recalling what Leo said earlier.

“Watch out for the wolf-man!”

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

There’s a strange sound behind her, one she can’t place at first. Then, something nudges her back, warm and large. It’s now that she recognises the sound as similar to a dog breathing, only louder and stronger by far.

She turns around slowly. It’s impossible to stifle her gasp.

Before her, Sid has turned into a large, beautiful wolf. He’s just as tall as her in head height, and much broader, but still slim in form and healthy. His fur is pure black with an inky indigo tint, random streaks of midnight blue reflecting in the dim lighting. Those same, intense eyes watch her, gauging her reaction. Somehow, they’re still very much Sid, very much cocky and yet still show his trademark gruff kindness.

Lowering her hands, she blinks, unsure if this is real. “Sid?”

He lets out a breath, as if to answer her. He lowers his head, moving so that it’s just in front of her hand. She swallows, feeling slightly apprehensive at first, before she steels herself and remembers that this is Sid. He won’t hurt her.

She reaches out, gently placing her hand atop his head, between his ears.

A low, hummed purr rumbles through him, and he seems to butt his head into her palm as if to encourage her. She strokes his fur gently, cautiously, and he closes his eyes in response. She finds herself grinning gently, amazed by the difference in his temperament. Using her other hand, she lightly rubs the side of his face, thinking that it’s not quite weird considering that he’s in another form.

She thinks, anyway.

Her grin widens. “You’re such a softie, Sid. You try to act tough, but you’re all heart when it comes down to it.”

He opens his eyes, and she can hear his words without him even saying them.

_Shut it, Princess._

He pulls his head back now, glancing behind him in the direction of the castle. He then lowers his front down, gesturing with his head for her to get on his back.

_Okay, this has to be a joke._

She looks into his eyes again. It’s not a joke.

Heaving out a breath, she walks around to his side, very carefully climbing up so that she can drape a leg over each side of his back. He straightens up again, and she grabs onto his neck for support, holding on tight. He seems to nod, as if telling her to keep a good grip on him.

He takes off into the forest, breaths rushing out of him every time his paws hit the floor. She clings to him, legs locked around his back, fingers curled into his soft fur.

It’s not long before he breaks through the tree line, into a clearing, and before the both of them are the castle gates. Sid pants away, but he goes silent for a moment. Then, suddenly, he lets out a loud, aggressive growl, lowering his head slightly and squaring his shoulders. Unsure of what’s made him react so badly, the princess peers into the dimly lit courtyard and around the gates, spying for the source of his response.

Mere seconds later, she notices a figure seem to shimmer into reality, their form almost blurring into sight.

“Mongrels are not allowed any further than the forest, Sid.”

Louis.

Sid lets out another growl. Louis steps out now, into the moonlight. If Sid wasn’t acting so seriously and she wasn’t mildly worried that one or both of them might get hurt, she would laugh; Louis is dressed normally, but on his head is a tall wizard’s hat, complete with a belt and point and even matching his coat.

Sid suddenly throws his head back, releasing a painfully loud howl, shattering the peacefulness of the night. The princess winces, covering one ear, and Louis glares vehemently at Sid. When he finally stops, Louis’ words are short and sharply delivered. “Princess, come here. You’re late, although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was this one’s fault.”

She hesitates. Sid, if anything, got her here more on time than any of the others, as far as she’s aware. “Louis, he got me here as fast as he could. He didn’t want me to be late.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’ll elect to ignore that regardless, but even so, you must come now. You’re needed in the castle.”

She sighs softly. She needs to go.

Sensing this, Sid growls lowly again, but lowers his head again so she can get off him. She slides down, landing lightly, and he raises his head once more. Giving him a grateful look, she lightly rubs his head again, whispering, “Thanks, Sid. I don’t mind owing you one for this.”

What sounds like a laugh, although wolfy and short, escapes him at that. She smiles brightly, then walks over to Louis swiftly. She observes that he doesn’t move his harsh glare from Sid once, even though his hand is extended toward her. Once she gets to him, he takes hers gently. He narrows his eyes again at Sid, muttering, “You broke the rules, Sid. It’s down to me to see that you’re dealt with appropriately.”

He snaps his fingers, eyes glowing a bright cerulean. A second later, there’s a flash of the same blue from where Sid is. When it fades, all the princess can do is gape.

In place of Sid - or, well, wolf Sid - is a tiny Pomeranian dog, its fur the exact same as his wolf form.

“Louis!” She gasps out, mildly horrified. “What are you doing?”

'Sid’ starts to growl and yap violently, speeding toward the two of them with his tiny legs. Louis merely shakes his head, tugging the princess into the courtyard. The gates close behind them by some magical force, leaving Pomeranian Sid to fume outside them.

“He’s had this coming for a long time.” Louis mumbles, leading her across the courtyard and up to the front doors of the castle. The guards there seem to recognise them both and nod respectfully, opening them and letting them through. “He deserves it.”

She wonders what Sid did, or if it’s just the typical disagreements between them fuelling Louis’ hate fire.

He escorts her through the castle, footsteps echoing through the corridors. He slows down as he does, and eventually twines his fingers through hers, the point on his hat bobbing with each step.

“Louis?” He glances down at her. “What time do I need to be ready for, to meet R-” She stops short, unsure of how to address the two now that they’re… royal. “King Robert and King Albert?”

He diverts his gaze to the floor, murmuring, “Two o'clock. It’s half one now, so you have some time.” He stops at a door now, meeting her gaze again. The guards push the doors open for them. “I have about ten minutes to make sure that you’re ready for them, if they even feel like dancing.”

He pulls her into the room, which she can see is a lavish, extravagant ballroom. He tugs her to the centre of it, raising her other hand up. The other hand comes up, his fingers lightly placing themselves under her chin. A soft, graceful, sweet smile adorns his lips at her slightly flushed skin, and he very gently tips her head so that it’s in the correct position.

He lowers his face, gazing down at her with those deep, pool-like eyes, swirling and full of emotion unlike the way he usually is. Expression becoming even more gentle at her quiet intake of breath, he takes her other hand and places it on his shoulder. Then, he curls his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.

“Shall we dance, Princess?” He whispers, the words light and fluttery like feathers. She’s confused and somewhat nervous, but she readies herself and nods.

He spins her into the dance. The whole world comes alive around them.

Flashes of places and people swirl around them, almost like they’re dancing through a whole other time. A beach at dawn, Wysteria Palace’s gardens at noon, extravagant balls and soirées… they all flash by around them, enveloping them in music that doesn’t exist and places that are far, far away.

He keeps her locked in his arms, embraced in warmth and magic and dance, spinning her again and again, guiding her perfectly. It’s breathtaking.

But finally, the visions fade away. He gradually lowers her down, tipping her to the side, supporting her with an arm around her back. Her heartbeat races, seeing his angelic smile above her.

“I believe our time is up.” He breathes out, voice a soft sigh. He straightens up, supporting her as he does, before releasing her waist. Then, he raises her hand to his mouth, brushing a very light, very delicate kiss to the skin. Her mind reeling, she can only whip around at the sound of a voice behind her, one that’s very familiar and rather amused.

“I appreciate the last-minute lesson for her, Duke Howard. Your efforts are as flawless as ever.”

Giles stands in the doorway, in his casual but still somehow majestic clothes, a strange little hat sitting atop his head. Other than that, he looks pretty normal, and he gives both of them a calm smile before speaking again. “I’m afraid it’s nearly time, Princess. If you’d follow me.”

Nodding, trusting in all of them to not be messing with her, she turns back to Louis. He has let her hand go, but he gives her a small, subtle smile, eyes softening. “Remember what I taught you, Princess. Good luck.”

A beaming smile spreads over her lips at his words of encouragement. She nods vigorously, bowing her head slightly, before responding, “I will. Thank you, Louis.”

And with that, she turns around to swiftly walk over to Giles, who gives her an almost amused look when she stops in front of him. “Let us go, then.”

He starts off down the corridor. She goes after him, glancing behind her for the tiniest fraction of a second.

The candles of the ballroom are extinguished by nothing, plunging the room into still silence. Louis is gone, the moonlight the only thing shining down on a tiny, single blue feather, resting daintily on the floor where he stood.

She blinks, doing a double-take, before Giles calls to her, “Princess, if you would, try to keep up. It’s time for tea, and we have little time to begin with.”

“Yes!” She hurries back to him, bowing her head just slightly. “I’m sorry.”

A hearty chuckle rumbles out of him. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder, sighing out in jokingly, “You’re forever apologising when you’re around me, Princess. I hope you’re not trying to imply something.”

It’s not even remotely inappropriate, but her cheeks flush anyway. She looks to the floor, stuttering out, somehow panicked, “Of course not!”

He grins gently, eyes creasing at the edges. “Now, now, Princess. Whatever do you think I meant? You’re awfully flushed.”

Before she can pin the blame on him for saying something like that in the first place, his hand reaches out, fingers coming up to very lightly brush across her cheek. He stops, making her come to a halt as well. He strokes her skin tenderly, fondly, before his grin widens marginally. “You appear to have a temperature, Princess. Really now, just before you are about to speak with King Robert and King Albert.”

He moves closer to her, tilting her head up to look at him directly, his face inches from her. “I suppose I’ll have to do this, then.”

Without further warning, he sweeps her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her toward one of the rooms in the castle. “Giles!” She exclaims in shock, embarrassed and once again very confused. “I’m not sick! I can walk! What are you doing?”

He only laughs loudly, the sound echoing down the corridor. “Why else? It’s because I’m mad, of course.”

_Huh?_

Now, she thinks about it, and it clicks ridiculously quickly in her head.

_He’s “mad”. He’s got a hat._

She holds back a groan. More weirdness.

Upon reaching a small, quiet room, she sees that there’s a luxurious couch with a table in front of it, and a tray full to the brim with different tea. He sets her on the couch gently, then starts to prepare some tea with a smile. She notices him pouring something else in, something awfully familiar-looking and sweet-smelling.

Noticing her look, he gives her a graceful smile, finishing brewing it and setting it down on the table in front of her. “It’s a blend of mine, My Lady.”

He leans down, planting a hand on the arm of the couch next to hers, then bringing his lips to her ear. She can barely hold back a shiver, feeling air drift over her earlobe and neck when he murmurs, almost purring, “A special mix just for you, all of your favourite flavours complimented together, bound together with a few drops of elderflower cider.”

If blushes could kill, she’d be very, very dead by this point.

“Thank you, Giles.” She murmurs, taking the tea and breathing in. She gives an appreciative sigh, the sweet scent calming her nerves completely. He nods, coming to perch himself on the arm of the chair, arms crossed over his chest and a leg crossed over the other knee.

They sit in a comfortable silence for about ten minutes while she drinks the tea, sipping it slowly and savouring the taste. She finishes it just before he pulls his watch out and nods to himself, then glances down at her mischievously. “It seems it’s time, Princess.” He stands up, offering her his hand. She takes it almost shyly, not quite sure how to respond to his odd behaviour. He laughs once more. “Come. Albert awaits.”

He escorts her through the silent castle, and she takes in the beautiful decor, lit up with a heavenly glow by the dim lighting of the candles. “Giles, why is it so quiet in here?”

He gives her a sly grin, but he says nothing. Guessing he’s too “mad” to tell her anything useful, she gives up.

Finally, they reach a large set of grand doors, no doubt unbelievably expensive and made with the finest materials. Giles pats her shoulder, and despite the strangeness of his - and everyone’s - behaviour, she finds comfort in it anyway. 

“Well, here we are. Please, princess, just be yourself. It would be a travesty for all of us, and for Wysteria, if you tried to be anything but your lovely self.”

Her cheeks burn. He winks, so fast she barely catches it, before spinning on his heels and taking off down the corridor.

She takes in a deep breath.

_Be myself, huh? Whatever you say, Giles._

She knocks on the door lightly. Almost immediately, they swing open by some unknown force, showing her the breathtaking room inside.

It’s a huge throne room, graced with colours of forest green, chocolate brown and gold, all mixed in together through the room. Subtle hints of other colours are scattered around by way of flowers, in vases and bouquets and beautiful hanging decorations. It’s for the most part empty, other than at the back, in the dead centre of the room.

Where two thrones sit, grand and powerful and luxurious. In one of them sits Albert.

He has a crown atop his head, with chocolate material inside the gold arms encasing it, and a cape of the same colour with spotless trimmings. His clothes are regal and no doubt of the finest quality, and a sceptre sits in his hand, just as elaborate as himself.

Already sitting straight, and seeming to have been waiting for her, he stands. He rests the sceptre against the throne, then calmly descends the steps leading up to it, approaching her slowly.

_He’s a king! Don’t forget what you’ve been taught!_

She quickly performs a curtsy, bowing her head lowly. “Your Majesty, it is an honour.”

There’s a quiet sigh from him.

_Uh oh-_

She doesn’t have time to tell herself off before he lowers himself to one knee, placing a hand over his heart and lowering his own head. 

When he speaks, his voice is composed and strong in a way that’s so different to normal, it takes her breath away. “Princess, to be frank, I’d much prefer it if you were informal with me. You need not act so distant from yourself.”

_Albert…_

They both stand, and he offers her his hand elegantly. “May I have a dance, Princess?”

It’s so unlike him, she’s stunned for a moment. But, she still nods after a moment, placing her hand in his lightly. “Of course.”

He smiles, only a little bit, but it’s so beautiful all the same.

He spins her into a dance, sending her the skirts of her dress swirling around her thighs. He tucks his arm around her waist, embracing her against his chest, staring down at her. His gaze is soft and kind, relaxed and expressive for once, an odd look pf peace settling across his features. There’s no music, but that doesn’t matter. They don’t need it.

As they dance, he pulls her toward the thrones, where he starts to lift her in the dance, throwing her up into the air. She flies back to him gracefully, breathless but amazed. He grins gently, throwing her up again.

This time, though, he keeps her suspended in the air, holding her close by her hips, her hands on his shoulders. shaking his head at her questioning look, he carries her to the second throne. He lowers her down onto it, and she’s immediately enveloped in the plush, bouncy material.

“Albert?” He kneels down once more, nudging his glasses up, before he takes her hand again. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a light, fleeting kiss to her ring finger.

“You’re most likely wondering why I’m so calm.” He closes his eyes, mumbling into her skin, “It’s because I’ve finally found you.”

_Found me?_

She tilts her head, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

He opens his eyes, cheeks flushing just a bit. “That’s not for me to say now. I can now say this for both myself and Robert, however,” He straightens up halfway, so that he can rest his hand on her cheek. He gives her an adoring smile, expression ever so tender, such an unusual sight to her. “You can see us both now.”

There’s a rush of wind around her. She closes her eyes for a brief second, feeling the warmth of his hand being whisked away by the cool air.

She opens her eyes. He’s gone.

“But how…” She whispers.

There’s a low, kind chuckle to her right.

She whips around, seeing Robert sat in the other throne. He wears his normal clothes, but a thick, raven cloak sits around his shoulders and drapes itself around him, almost shrouding him in darkness. His face resting on his hand, he watches her calmly, eyes soft and relaxed.

He grins warmly. In the glow of the candles, she only just sees the glint of a long, sharp tooth peeking out from his behind his lip.

“R-Robert?” She jumps in the throne, heart skipping in surprise. He lets out a breathy laugh once more, taking her hand gently and holding it between the two thrones. She can’t take her eyes off the longer tooth, and one thought blurs through her mind.

_Don’t tell me… as well as a king, he’s a vampire?_

His eyes soften. He rises to his feet in a graceful, liquid motion, before he lightly tugs her to her feet. She lets him bring her to be right in front of him, somehow acting so much more intimate than usual, not nearly as reserved and controlled. His eyes have a subtle wickedness to them, something swirling and smouldering in them that’s wild and unpredictable.

Somehow, it’s exhilarating.

“You’re correct, about what I am.” He tells her quietly, her hand still locked in his. He turns hers over so that he can bring it up to his face, proceeding to nuzzle his cheek into her palm. He’s cold, she observes, frighteningly so. He hums lowly, responding and simultaneously proving that he apparently read her thoughts as a vampire. “Is it unpleasant, me being cold? I don’t notice it.”

She can barely get a response out because of how he’s nestling his mouth and cheek against her palm, but she manages after a moment, skin burning. “No. It’s just… ah…”

She trails off, entranced by his movements. He chuckles deep in his throat, humming out, “It’s just?”

She turns her head away, unable to say what she’s thinking. Sighing contentedly, he lightly places his other hand on her hip, gazing at her and watching her catch her breath. She doesn’t push him away, so he coils his arm around her lower back, pulling her into a close embrace. “You’re so warm, Princess…” He mumbles, tightening his grip on her middle. “And, if I may say so, your blood smells wonderful. So sweet and true, just like yourself.”

His eyes and voice drop now, becoming alluring and slower, drawing her in. “Will you allow me the honour of tasting it?”

Somehow even though logic, even though instincts would say no, her answer comes from her heart. There’s no hesitation at all. It comes naturally, without her thinking. “Yes.”

He lets out a sighed breath. “Thank you. There is reason for this. I want you to believe that, Princess.”

A fluttering kiss dances over her palm. He lowers his head, keeping hold of her hand, to leave his face hovering in front of her neck. Her head tips back automatically, like something is telling her to do it. Eyelids falling shut, she listens to Robert speaking almost huskily into her throat, feeling his lips glide over the flesh there. “We’d like to keep you here, but we can’t. Worry not, though; we’ll meet you again another night, and you’ll see an ending to the story. I promise you that.”

Her fingers grip his sleeve and fingers. There’s a hiss, and she tenses just a little.

Finally, his fangs bury themselves in her neck, piercing through with a dull, aching pain. She winces, but the gentle rubbing of his thumb on her back soothes her through the pain. He lets out a low, heavy sigh, sucking hard on the wound. A burst of something almost pleasant explodes in her, leaving her dazed and lost in the sensation. 

But he pulls away quickly, far too soon, to breathe over her lips, “You’ll see us - all of us - soon, in a different dream.”

_Dream?_

She doesn’t have the strength to ask what he means. He scoops her into his arms, then carries her to the throne she was sat on before and places her in it gently. There’s a brisk, fleeting kiss to her hand, accompanied by the brief warmth of his fingers, before he leaves. It’s quiet for a long moment. She can’t move. 

Everything starts to go dark in her mind. He thoughts fade away, leaving her in an empty oblivion of nothing for a long few seconds. 

And then she hears all of their voices, murmuring through the silence, deadly serious to the point of making her shiver. 

“Princess, be careful. Everything is changing soon. Wake up.”

There’s a rush of biting, icy air against her back. Phantom arms encircle her ethereal form, trapping her inside them. The breath is almost dragged out of her, but what feels like a hand, invisible to her, clamps over her mouth, leaving her waist. 

She can’t see anything. 

But she can hear, and when she hears the next words, they’re spoken in a voice she doesn’t know. It’s deep and cold and frightening, and she trembles as soon as he starts to speak. 

_“Prepare yourself, Princess. I’ll be joining you soon enough.”_

The constriction is almost choking now, suffocating and painful. A sinister laugh rumbles behind her.

_“Wake up. Rayvis Harneit has come to see his Princess.”_

* * *

**Bonus: Rayvis Harneit Feature (Non-crack)**

“Princess?”

She jolts up straight, eyes flying open. She’s sitting at her dresser, a maid stood behind her, apparently having fixed her hair up and done her makeup. The maid looks confused and concerned, and tilts her head at the Princess’ mildly bewildered expression. “Are you alright, Milady? You fell asleep while I fixed you up, and I didn’t want to disturb you, but it’s nearly time for the Halloween ball. Giles should be coming to get you soon.”

_“Rayvis Harneit will be coming for you soon enough.”_

She can feel something pulling her. There’s somewhere she needs to go. 

She jerks up and out of her chair, giving the maid a forced, strained and apologetic smile. Her voice, although appreciative, is openly worried and off when she speaks. “I’m sorry about that; thank you. Please, take the night off and enjoy yourself.”

“Milady? What on earth-” The Princess all but sprints out of her room, skirts of her extravagant Halloween dress swishing around her with every step. 

She sees a clock in her mind. It’s nearly midnight.

_I need to go there…_

She makes her way down the corridor swiftly, taking the quickest but least populated route to where she needs to go. Turning into the next one, she sees Giles, Leo, Louis and Alyn all talking in the corridor, voices hushed. They cease when they see her, expressions showing varying degrees of shock, surprise, worry, suspicion and confusion. 

“Your Highness,” Giles starts cautiously, watching her come their way. “Is something the matter? I was just about to come and get you-”

_I don’t have time!_

“I’m sorry, Giles. I’ll escort myself to the ball in a few minutes. I just need to do something before I go down.” Rushing past them, hair bouncing with each hurried step, she inclines her head respectfully. “Thank you.”

He looks completely baffled now. “Princess?”

Leo catches her arm as she goes past, asking in a guarded tone, “Princess, did something happen? What is it?”

She gently removes his hand, giving him the same strained smile she gave the maid. “It’s nothing, Leo, honestly. I just need to do something.”

She takes off again, leaving them stunned into silence. 

_Nearly there…_

She reaches the highest level of the palace, entering the room which leads to the roof, and to the place she needs to go to.

Only, to find Sid, Robert, Albert, Nico and Byron collected there. 

_Not now… not now…_

Byron raises an eyebrow delicately, taking in her expressive face and body language. “Princess. You look like you’re in a rush. Is there a problem?”

She smooths out her expression as much as she can, trying to force down the stirring feeling in her. Shaking her head, she stops before them, curtsying politely. “Not at all, King Byron. I’m just doing something quickly before the ball begins in a few minutes. If you’d like to go down, it’s about to start.”

Robert’s eyes instantly take on a look of deep worry. Nico blinks, surprised by her behaviour. Albert frowns, nudging his glasses up with an untrusting stare, while Sid scowls, not liking how she’s acting one bit. Byron narrows his eye, sharing the same thought. 

Before they can respond, though, she speaks again, trying to mask the uneasiness building up inside her. “Apologies. If you’ll excuse me for a few moments. I will return in just a moment.”

_I can’t wait. There’s no time._

She makes her way to the staircase at the back of the room, feeling them staring after her. She ascends them rapidly, then goes up the spiral staircase attached to them, being careful of her dress. Finally, she arrives in the most obscure place in the palace. 

The clock tower room. 

The large clock’s mechanisms tick before her, moving constantly. The stares up at the clock face for a second. It’s reversed, but she can see the time anyway. 

The minute hand strikes midnight. The bells sound around her. 

He appears before her. Chocolate hair, grey eyes with a misty blue hue within them, pale, unmarked skin. Jet black clothes with hints of wine red. An air of power, authority, finality and dignity.

The bell chimes are deafening, but somehow she can’t even concentrate on them. 

_One. Two. Three._

A tremor rattles through her. His gloved hand rises up to her cheek, the backs of his fingers brushing over her flesh with an almost ghostly touch. She shudders, body and mind struggling to cope with the effect this stranger is having on her. 

_Four. Five. Six._

She hears footsteps approaching, coming from the stairwell. She can’t look away from him He has her trapped, enraptured in him already, gripped close to him by one mere look and a few whispered words. His thumb strokes under her jaw. 

_Seven. Eight. Nine._

He pulls her into his arms. His hold is so tight and strong, it almost hurts. It’s almost dangerous. Something about him is lethal, so sharp and cutting, that there’s fear stabbing into her heart, even though she feels so safe. He buries her face in his chest. All nine of her main suitor potentials arrive now, concerned about the Wysterian monarch, and they pour into the room quickly.

Every single one freezes upon seeing her, held in the arms of a man that most didn’t know existed. 

_Ten._

He squeezes her just a little. Her head spins. 

_Eleven._

“Be ready for me. I’m coming for you.”

Her body trembles. He smiles just slightly, but even that could slice through metal. The suitors find themselves unable to speak, or move, or do anything. They’re stuck in place, and can only watch as he tilts her face up to him, fingers pressing lightly under her chin. Her eyelids flutter closed. He leans down, pressing his lips to hers. 

_Twelve._

And then, in another gust of freezing wind, he breaks apart into a thousand pieces. They’re whisked away into the air, rising up the tower in a cloud of jet-black stars. 

She collapses to the floor. The world goes silent, and she’s lost to the dark once more. 


End file.
